


These Things Happen...

by Tallulah_Rasa



Category: Leverage, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Humor, Not a Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-22 08:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2501444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallulah_Rasa/pseuds/Tallulah_Rasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything has an explanation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Things Happen...

**Author's Note:**

> A few years ago I spent some time in a series of hotel rooms, and was tickled to find that the little cards that remind you what you'll be charged should you inadvertently walk off with a towel ($12) or hairdryer ($28) now include the ironing board ($36) and TV ($800.) First, of course, I focused on the most obvious point: I have trouble fitting a week's worth of clothes into my suitcase; there are people who manage to fit in an ironing board? But then I began to ponder the larger issues, so to speak. Who walks out of a hotel with a TV? And exactly how often does this happen, that hotels now need to warn overnight guests of the consequences? 
> 
> Well, one thing led to another ("another," in this case, involving three episodes of "NCIS" and five of "Boston Legal" in a 48-hour period), and thanks to the crash course in criminal investigation, I came up with a scenario to explain this mystery of modern life. I think it would stand up in any court in the land, except for the total lack of forensic evidence, and the fact that the accused is a fictional character. But other than that…

**1\. The First Suspect: Vala Mal Doran**

_At first Vala appeared to be the obvious suspect, but it's hard to place her at_ _the scene of the crime, since no one in authority would allow Vala to stay in a hotel.  More than once, anyway._

"So I'm thinking…what about a group vacation?" Cameron asked, as they were sitting in the commissary, getting a late-night snack after yet another day spent saving the galaxy. 

Vala squealed a heartfelt, "YES!", but Daniel made a face that managed to convey that Mitchell was insane, that he really wanted another doughnut, and that he'd just figured out what the carvings on that obelisk on P3M-609 really meant. 

Sam looked up from her jello.  "A road trip _could_ be fun…" she offered, though she didn't sound entirely sure. 

"I have wished to see Space Mountain for some time," Teal'c said solemnly, holding a forkful of meatloaf.  "O'Neill has described it as…awesome." 

"Jack also says there are fish in the lake at his cabin," Daniel pointed out, looking up only briefly from the translation he was hastily scribbling on a napkin. 

Teal'c could only nod at this.  "Don't be such…such…fuddy-duddies!"  Vala burst out. She plunged her fork into her double-fudge cake, where it stood like a silver sentinel in a field of mud. "This could be _fun_!  We could go see this Space Mountain.  Or... some other mountain.  And we could stay in a hotel!" 

"Most people don't get that excited about hotels," Cam said with an indulgent grin as he scooped up another bite of apple pie. 

"Oh, I've heard about hotels," Vala said.  "Room service.  Pools.  Minibars." 

"I don’t think we—" Sam began.

_"_ And they allow you to take the amenities home," Vala went on. 

"That is not true, Vala Mal D—" 

"Shampoo!  Little sewing kits!  Shower caps!" Vala sang, looking from one face to another.  Teal'c nodded.  Cam grinned.  Sam raised an eyebrow.  Daniel refused to look up from his translation. 

"Well, that _is_ true," Cam said. 

"Hotel rooms also have refrigerators," Vala said.  "And irons.  And big screen TVs."  She beamed at her teammates.  "I'd love a big screen TV, wouldn't you?" 

This time Daniel did look up, and this time his face said, "Why does no one ever listen to me?" and "Maybe I can get Jack to send me to Atlantis.  Tonight." 

"You know," Cameron said, "now that I think about it, this is the year for staycations." 

"But—" Vala began. 

"On base," Cameron said firmly, pushing away his tray and standing up.  "I mean, you never know when we'll be needed to save the galaxy, or something…" 

A claxon blared just then, and four people gave sincere, if slightly guilty, thanks. 

**2\.  The Second Suspect: Parke** r

_If anyone could – and would – manage a chain of hotel-related TV thefts, it would be Parker.  But…well…stealing a TV seems a little too **mundane** for Parker. _

"Okay," Nate said.  "Eliot, you and Parker check into the hotel and wait for my signal.  Sophie, you meet with our crooked hotel security guy.  Hardison, you—" 

"I know," Hardison said, nodding.  "Make magic."  

"Wait," Parker said.  "What are Eliot and I supposed to do while we're...waiting?" 

Sophie looked at Hardison, who looked at Eliot, who looked alarmed. 

"Make a shopping list," Sophie suggested.  "A list of all the things you need to buy.  That's what I do when I'm waiting." 

"I don't shop," Parker said seriously. 

Sophie sighed.  "You must need something, Parker.  Shoes?  A coat? Something for your bedroom, maybe—" 

"I'm sure," Nate interrupted, smiling evilly, "that Parker will think of something to do." 

The team separated, and soon Mr. and Mrs. William Riker were ensconced in the honeymoon suite at one of the nicest hotels in the city.  Parker cased the room, looking for the quickest exit routes, the most accessible air vents, and the best angle for rappelling out the window.  Eliot cased the room, cataloguing the available areas for offensive and defensive maneuvers, and ran through a series of scenarios involving one to seven assailants armed with a combination of guns, knives, clubs, bottles, swords and cattle prods, just to make sure all his bases were covered.  He nudged the desk a little to the left  -- it would have gotten in the way of a round kick – and then turned to Parker. 

"I need a screwdriver," she said. 

He didn't ask why; he just handed her his Swiss army knife.  "You know, even if you get it out of the armoire, you can't steal the TV," he said, because it was a flat screen, and new, and you never knew with Parker. 

"I don't _need_ a TV," she said, rolling her eyes.  "But I do need a soda." 

"I could use something to drink," Eliot agreed.  The mini-fridge held only designer-label bottled water, so he slipped out to the vending machine down the hall.  He was back in under four minutes with a can of Coke, a bottle of orange juice, and  several ideas for strategic escape options involving the fire exit, the service elevator, and the staircase. 

Parker was sitting on the floor with a pile of 600-count linens at her side.  The mattress was leaning against the wall, and the bed was neatly disassembled in front of her.  Eliot very nearly dropped the Coke. 

_"_ Parker…?" he said.

 "I might need one of those big laundry cart," Parker said thoughtfully. 

"Parker…?" Eliot repeated. 

"Or possibly a dolly, though then we would need some kind of uniforms," Parker went on.  "From a moving company, maybe, or a pest control place, or--" 

"Pest control," Eliot repeated weakly.  

"We could move this in no time," Parker assured him. "I'm sure we'd be finished in time to do Nate's job." 

"We could—" Eliot began. 

"It's solid cherry," Parker said, finally looking at him.  "Solid cherry is nice.  And _expensive_ .  And I don't _have_ a bed."   

**3\.  The Perp**

_Obviously, there's only one plausible scenario remaining, because if you rule out the impossible, what's left is…_

"I know, Daniel," Jack said into his cell phone.  He tucked the phone under his chin, swiped a towel across his still-damp hair, tied the belt of the hotel-issue bathrobe more tightly, and dropped the towel on the bed.  "But even at Atlantis…"  His voice trailed off as he punched a few stubbornly unresponsive buttons on the TV remote.  

Jack knew it was important for the head of Homeworld Security to leave D.C. now and then to visit military contractors, or talk to a few bigwigs, or recruit a few geniuses, but he really wished he could do the job during the day and go home at night.  Unfortunately, the Pentagon frowned on using military jets for commuter flights, and the IOC wouldn't even listen to his suggestion about rigging the Gate for cross-continental travel, so more and more he found himself spending the night in a hotel.  And okay, there were worse places to be, but in _those_ places, he usually had his team nearby.  Not to mention that he'd yet to find a hotel room with a TV remote that worked.

"Yes, Daniel, I'm still here," he said.  He gave up on the remote and stalked over to the TV, where the Canes should have been playing the Islanders.  He glared at the TV, and then fiddled with the controls, all the while keeping up a running commentary of "Hmmm" and "You don't say?" to Daniel.  He thought once Daniel mentioned something about someone smuggling a koala onto the Daedalus, but his voice didn't have that special tone that let Jack know this was _urgent_ , so he didn't bother paying attention.  Daniel, he knew, was probably translating something, or reading a journal, and not really paying attention to _him_ , either.  "Uh huh," he finally said when Daniel took a breath.  "But I have to say, I'm surprised that a man who faced down the Ori and the Goa'uld can't face Space Mountain with one little..."  He smacked  the side of the TV, which did no good, and stared absently at the screen.  "No.  Well, okay," he said.  "Bad example."  He grabbed the TV, twisted it around so he could see the wires – probably a bad connection somewhere – and that's when he felt the tell-tale tingle. 

"Oh, for crying out loud," he said before he – and the TV – disappeared in an Asgard transporter beam. 

A second later he was looking at Thor, who stared back impassively. 

"Thor, buddy, we've talked about this…" 

"I am sorry, O'Neill," Thor said.  "There is a matter of great urgency." 

"Isn't there always," Jack sighed, and then he spoke into the phone.  "No, I'm fine, Daniel.  Just…yeah.  Not in Kansas anymore." 

"I believe you were in California, O'Neill," Thor said earnestly. 

"But what did I tell you?" Jack said into the phone.  "This new DoD cell phone technology is pretty good, huh?"  He listened for a minute, smiled, and then said to Thor, "Daniel wants to know if I'm going to the SGC, or if the team needs to meet me someplace else." 

"I believe the SGC will be a suitable place for a briefing," Thor said. 

"I'll be there in ten," Jack said into the phone.  "Oh, and Daniel?  I'll need the usual.  Yeah, BDUs will be fine.  Oh, and have someone get in touch with the hotel, will you?  And when they get my luggage, tell them not to forget my book.  This is my third copy of "Team of Rivals"; someday I want to find out how it ends.  What?  Just tell accounting two nights, a bag of peanuts from the minibar, and a bathrobe."  He rolled his eyes.  "You know, it would be nice if one time you didn't laugh.  Oma sent you back twice in the buff, and I didn't…well, okay, I did.  Bad—" 

"O'Neill…" Thor interrupted. 

"Gotta go, Daniel.  Oh!  One more thing – tell Accounting I, uh, left with the TV.  Yeah, again.  I suppose hotels have to expect this sort of thing, huh?  Okay, see you in—" 

Thor might have been smiling as he beamed Jack down to the SGC.  That might have had something to do with his special relationship with Jack, but then again, it might have had something to do with the very large flat screen TV sitting in the middle of his ship.  The Asgard, for all their knowledge and advanced technology, had never mastered the art of the one-hour drama, and so had never seen the need to develop flat screen TVs.  They had, however, figured out how to pick up both cable and satellite TV transmissions in space, and Thor had become rather fond of "Star Trek: The Next Generation." 

"Next time, perhaps, a DVR…" Thor murmured before he went to join Jack and SG-1, and avert galactic disaster once again. 

END  

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I have faith the Asgard are fine.  
> 2\. I cribbed the koala from an episode of NCIS.  
> 3\. In _my_ experience hotel remotes work just fine, but of course I haven't been through the Gate, or had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into my head. According to recently declassified reports, that sort of thing messes with your polarity, or something. (The effect is apparently even more pronounced if you've ascended and descended; Daniel can't get near a toaster oven without it bursting into flames.) Luckily, Sam's been able to fix it so Jack doesn't have a problem with his remote at home. It's amazing what you can do with duct tape and a little naquadah.


End file.
